


Cast in Reflection

by liebes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family, Family Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-16
Updated: 2011-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-17 01:11:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liebes/pseuds/liebes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes looking at Sirius is like looking into a mirror. Drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cast in Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> "Our siblings. They resemble us just enough to make all their differences confusing, and no matter what we choose to make of this, we are cast in relation to them our whole lives long." -Susan Scarf Merrell

Looking at Sirius is like looking into a mirror. But it's a mirror that, as it ages, begins to distort your reflection until, one day, you no longer recognise the person staring back at you.

When you were younger, the differences were barely discernable. High cheekbones, grey eyes, cropped black hair, elegant deep green robes. Products of generations of inbreeding and the shrinking gene pool of the pure-blood population. Back then, you were the tall brother, nearly an inch taller than him, even though you were younger. Even your cousins could barely tell you apart. You could've been twins.

But as the years pile on, so do the dissimilarities. His hair a bit more unkempt, your nose a bit longer. His height taller, shoulders broader. Your face more hollow, eyes deeper set.

Physical variations parallel the deeper separation. The tower and the dungeon. The courageous and the cunning. Where he laughs, you smile. Where he grins, you raise an eyebrow.

And the differences, like trails of water on the ground, difficult to perceive, have grown larger, carving a canyon between you and him. As you watch him from across the chasm, you wonder what it would take for him to cross it. Or for you to cross it. Or if, somehow, you could meet in the middle.

But for now you're stuck at opposite sides. And you realise that what you once thought was a mirror is actually a window. And every lingering similarity works only to amplify the differences until you wonder how anybody could still mistake you for twins.


End file.
